But why? Why is Athena’s past not something she wants to discuss?
17
GARRETT
“I’mgonna paint your room, Peony,” I tell her once she’s finished eating her lunch. “But I need your help picking a color for the walls.” I reach over the staff-room coffee table, holding my phone out for Peony to see. “Which of these is your favorite?”
Athena takes the phone and shows her the five color swatches.
“We’ll narrow it down once we know the color family she likes.” No point looking at different shades of pinks if she prefers green or purple or orange.
The colors swatches are the popular kid-friendly choices. Soft shades that go well with Peony’s new furniture.
“Which of these pretty colors do you want on your bedroom wall?” Athena asks her.
Peony examines the screen, though I’m not sure if she understands what Athena is asking. But Athena will have a good idea what colors my daughter is drawn to.
Peony points to the pink, the green, and then the purple.
“The green would look great in your room.” I pull up several additional green options, and she swiftly picks one. It happens to be my favorite, but I don’t tell her that. I doubt she gives a damn what I like.
Peony cuddles closer to Athena, her attention on anything but me. Unlike before, she doesn’t seem completely terrified. Now it’s more like she’s extremely shy toward me. But that doesn’t mean the fear isn’t still there, lingering beneath the surface, waiting to let me know it hasn’t gone anywhere.
“Can I see what color you picked, Peony?” Zara joins her on the couch, leaving several inches between Peony and herself.
Peony flashes Zara a tentative smile. Shyness still cloaks her, but less so with Zara.
I hand Athena my phone to pass to Zara. Zara taps in my code and shows the phone to Peony. Peony points at the screen.
“Oh, that’s pretty. Your…” Zara looks at me, and I know what she’s silently asking.
I nod. Athena has referred to me as Peony’s father, and I’ve accepted she’s my daughter. Maybe it’s time Peony thinks of me that way too.
And what if she isn’t your daughter?
I ignore the voice. Even Zara seems convinced Peony is the result of my swimmer who went rogue.
“Your daddy and I are painting your bedroom tomorrow. And you’ll have the best room in the house. It overlooks the backyard, where all kinds of magical things happen while you sleep.Shhh.” Zara presses her finger to her lips. “But you can’t tell anyone about the magic.” The pitch of her voice drops to a near whisper. “It’s a secret.”
I laugh softly, the sound vibrating low in my throat. “Some things never changed from when you were a kid.”
I might be a fiction author, but of the two of us growing up, Zara had the brightest imagination. When we played make-believe during recess and after school, she was the one who came up with the best ideas, whether we were pirates, or knights fighting dragons, or on an Indiana Jones adventure.
I swipe to another set of colors and hand the phone to Athena. “What color would you like for your bedroom walls?”
She stares at me for a beat. “My-my walls?”
“As you might have noticed, I didn’t exactly decorate my house with awoman in mind. As Zara keeps pointing out.” I flash Zara a quick grin. “I thought you might like a different color on your walls. Something less…”
“Masculine?” Zara pipes in on a chuckle.
Athena takes my phone and studies the choices.
“Sorry they’re not as colorful as the ones for Peony. Zara thought the neutral shades would look good in the guest bedroom.”
“No, these are perfect. Thank you…thank you for giving me a choice.” Athena points to the blush beige and hands me the phone. “We should get back to the hotel now.”
“Oh, okay,” I reply, torn between wanting to spend more time watching my best friend interact with Peony, and knowing I don’t have time for that. I need to drive to Eugene to pick up the paint for tomorrow. And I need to get in my word count for today if I plan to make my deadline. Besides, we’ll have plenty of time to spend hanging out with Peony once she and Athena move into my house.
